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"fvaourite" poems
yes, it's monotony there is no thrill of the chase, no late night call that makes you feel wanted (then used). Oh, husband, wherefore art thou? In the next room perhaps cooking my fvaourite meal. My husband treats me so good I take it for granted.
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Dec 5, 2024
Dec 5, 2024 at 7:07 AM UTC
Ode to a husband